Love is Messy
by zissa
Summary: Kai tries his hand as an amateur mechanic, Cinder gives the orders, and nothing goes as planned.


"Look, it's really not that hard, Kai. Two turns clockwise to stop the oil flow, two screws to open the hatch, a couple seconds with the soldering iron, and it's done. I can do it myself if—"

" _No_." Kai's words were muffled by the overhang of the bulkhead he was hunkered under, but the stubbornness came through very clearly all the same. "Dr. Nandez said you needed to take it easy and you're _going_ to take it easy. Getting stabbed in the chest isn't something to take lightly. Just walk me through it and we can do this together without you reopening that wound." He shifted enough to crane his head back and smirk mischievously at Cinder. "Or we could, y'know, do what most monarchs do and let the people actually employed to do this do it."

" _No._ " Cinder snorted, folding her arms across her bandaged middle and slumping back to the landing gear she was leaning against with a mulish expression. The very idea was borderline insulting. "I am _not_ trusting the ship that got us through an entire revolution to mechanics I don't know yet."

"Well, then. Shall we?" Kai picked up a wrench from the tool kit he'd had delivered to the hangar earlier that morning and twirled it smugly in one hand. At which point his unskilled fingers promptly launched it deep into the bowels of the ship, where it landed with a distant mocking clang. Kai frowned, lifting a hand to rub sheepishly at the back of his neck. "I…will find that later."

"Uh-huh." Cinder attempted to stifle a snicker in the back of her throat and failed. She nudged the tool kit closer with a foot and briefly considered pulling out her portscreen to record the event for posterity. And also for Iko. "Don't let that stop you. You've still got about a dozen other wrenches there." She grinned wickedly. "And there are probably a few more upstairs if the ship eats those, too."

Kai mock-glowered at her as he dug another wrench out of the kit and turned his attention back to the ship. "Okay, so what was the first step again?"

"Stopping the oil flow. That's the most important step, actually. You really don't want to work in an oily engine compartment."

There a grunt and the distinctive rasp of metal on metal as Kai followed her instructions. Cinder watched appreciatively as he manned the wrench, then rocked back on his heels to survey his work. He wore the formal tunic with its embroidered mandarin collar and exquisitely tailored dress pants that Torin had recommended for their departure later in the day, but his sleeves were rolled to his elbows and his collar flapped loosely with his movements. His dark hair was damp with sweat from the hangar's heat and lay in artful, tousled strands that begged to be touched. Cinder swallowed, feeling her own temperature rising with each second she watched him.

"Okay, done. What's next?"

"Huh? Oh, um…the hatch. Two screws." Cinder gave herself a shake to force herself to _stop staring_. Kai had swiveled to rummage in the kit for a screwdriver and apparently caught the movement from the corner of his eye because he paused long enough to grin.

"Distracted by my hidden talents?"

"By your hair, actually."

Kai chuckled and raked said hair away from his face far more dramatically than he needed to as he started unfastening the hatch he needed to access. "Well, that's understandable."

"Watch it, you're starting to sound like Thorne."

"Stars forbid." There was an amused snort at that, punctuated by groaning metal as Kai started prying up the edge of hatch. "Though, I've got to say, this isn't half as hard as I expected it to—GAH!"

The hatch gave way with a spectacular screech, a sudden spurt of oil arcing out to spatter across Kai's face and torso like paint on a canvas. He yelped and stumbled back, sprawling on the stone floor in a murky puddle of oil.

"You know, that sounded a lot like Thorne, too." Cinder gasped in between peals of laughter, clutching her heaving sides as she sagged against the landing gear. Her wound ached with the force of each giggle…but it was _so_ very worth it. "Are you okay?"

Kai glared, rolling onto his elbows with a squelch and wrinkling his nose at the thick, acrid scent of the oil that coated him from forehead to waist. He snagged a spare rag—also dripping with black goo—and lobbed it Cinder's way. She only laughed hard as it landed on her thigh with a wet smack.

"You only cranked the oil valve _once_ , didn't you?" Cinder scooted across the floor to squat in front of His Oil-Covered Highness, biting her lip to quell the laughter still bubbling up in her throat. Kai sighed, a rueful sigh tugging at his lips as he sat up, still firmly in the center of the still-spreading oil slick.

"Very possibly." He closed his eyes as Cinder started wiping the worst of the oily residue from his face with her sleeve, her metal fingertips gentle as they passed over his jaw, his nose, his eyes. "And it was going so _well_ …"

"Well…I wouldn't say that the project was a complete failure." Cinder chuckled and leaned in closer, to press her lips to his. He started at the abrupt change in texture from metal fingers to soft lips, but relaxed again quickly. He wound his arms his arms around her waist—gently, in deference to her wound—and reeled her in closer, neither one of them caring about the oily marks such a messy kiss would leave behind. "Count it as a learning experience."

"Your Highness, President Vargas would like to speak with you before departure time. If—oh, stars…" Torin's voice trailed off into an exasperated whisper as he rounded the far end of the Rampion and took in the mess before him. Cinder and Kai froze mid-kiss, pulling apart only a few inches. Kai straightened, though his arms stayed firmly locked around Cinder's middle, and cleared his throat, appearing as dignified as a man caught sitting in the middle of an oil slick with his girlfriend in his arms could.

"Please tell him I'll be with him in a few moments. I'm…indisposed, at the moment."

"To say the _very_ least, Your Highness." Torin murmured under his breath as he nodded and retreated as quickly as his impeccable dress shoes would carry him, a traitorous smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Oh, the joys of advising teenage royalty…At least his job would never be dull.


End file.
